A Hand to Hold
by Maetel
Summary: Response to livejournal community iconic writings' challenge 2 07: Garden. Set after The Unquiet Dead, Rose finds her way into one of the rooms of the TARDIS, and finds herself thinking back on the life she's now leading.


Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who, do you think I'd be here writing Fanfiction?

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During her short time traveling with the alien only known as The Doctor, Rose never thought she would enjoy the idea of being lost on his ship. The TARDIS he called it. She remembered her reaction when she found out it was bigger on the inside, but she never thought it would be as big as it was proving to be.

So far, she'd found rooms full of junk, a wardrobe, a garage, a music room, a locked door, a few bathrooms, bedrooms, and, much to her relief, a garden with various flowers from Earth as well as other planets. In the center was a column, possibly a small gazebo that had been grown over by the various vines and flowers and ivy.

The room smelled sweet, like soft perfumes mixed with night air and something indescribable. Something that vaguely reminded her of his scent. She wondered if he ever came to this room. During those odd times that he wasn't in the console room, banging on the console with some odd tool.

She walked further into the garden, following a trail towards the center. She looked around her, noticing the small cutting of a tree that the creature- woman?- Jabe had given to the Doctor on Platform 1. She'd sacrificed herself in order to stop Cassandra. As much as Rose was weirded out by the Tree, she'd never forget the woman's gift.

Rose shook her head and continued to walk. The garden was slowly turning into more of a labyrinth, giving her time to think. To focus on what had been going on with her life.

She'd gone swanning off with a perfect stranger, leaving everything she knew behind. She didn't know anything about him, except that he'd saved her life and then shown her the most exciting time she'd ever known. Stopping killer mannequins controlled by an alien. That beat out working in some shop and eating chips any day.

Granted, she'd left Mickey behind like some easily forgotten piece of clothing, but she knew that the life she'd been offered might be the only chance she'd ever have for anything but the humdrum existence he'd represented.

She knew that there might be a price to that though. That was a fact she'd been confronted with since starting the journey with The Doctor. They were constantly facing some sort of danger. She in some odd outfit, whether it be a tee and jeans or one of those dresses that was hidden away within the wardrobe. She was starting to wonder if he ever changed more of his clothes than simply his jumper. Same jacket. Apparently same pants. Different colored jumper.

She laughed at the thought, though she wasn't quite sure if she was amused or disgusted. She knew that he was relatively clean. He didn't smell bad. Smelled quite nice actually. It was the smell that she was starting to associate with home, even after so short of a time. Maybe it was having watched the death of Earth that put everything into perspective.

She almost wondered if this was how he felt. Knowing that his home was destroyed.

Probably not. She had the option of going back to her own time and seeing everyone who was important to her, though that group had slowly dwindled down to her mum and Mickey. Even Shireen was one of the furthest people from her mind. Thoughts of the maid, Gwyneth, seemed to be more prominent than her one time best mate.

Heck, she'd barely thought of her mum since heading back to Earth after watching the future version as it was being consumed by the sun. It had been too painful, thinking of the woman as dead when she knew that Jackie Tyler was still in the Powell Estate, fixing hair for local women and having some of the men of London owe her favors. It was just a shock.

She sniffled a bit, before realizing that she had to. She lifted a hand up to her face and found tears wetting her cheeks. "Great," she muttered softly to herself. She looked back, realizing just how far through the trail she'd gone. She could simply step through the various groups of flowers that blocked her and the door, but a part of her couldn't bring herself to do it.

Instead, she opted to continue on towards the center. See if the garden really was a labyrinth like she'd thought. If anything, it might give her time to clear her head before going back out and making the Doctor think she'd lost her mind because of smudged mascara thanks to tears.

So she continued on. Her arms were crossed over her chest, as though she were trying to hold herself together. She cleared her mind as much as she could, though she couldn't help when it drifted off to thoughts about how she wanted to go home. There was a twinge of regret tinting the memories of her decision to travel with him. Maybe she'd stay this time. Stay with Jackie and Mickey. See how her life was supposed to work out without his interference. Without the dangers. Without the Doctor.

She wasn't sure how she was going to tell him though. How would he react? Would he be indifferent, as though she never really mattered? Would he be sad to see her go? Angry that she decided to leave him? Happy to be rid of her? Considering how rude he'd been to her during their travels, the latter seemed like a probable outcome, though the worry in his voice and his words when they thought they were sure to die thanks to the Gelth seemed to negate previous actions. One thing was certain though: she wasn't sure.

He'd told her about part of his past. About how he'd been alone for a while now- Alone since the end of the war that had killed his people. Could she leave him alone again, though? Could she allow herself to leave him to the solitude that was just him and his ship? As sentient as it seemed, the TARDIS didn't seem much for good conversation.

No! She wasn't going to talk herself out of it. She had a life that she needed to get back to. She had Mickey, who, as stupid and lumplike as he was, needed her. Now all she needed was a way to tell the Doctor.

Rose looked up as she reached the center of the garden. The column of flowers and vines. She carefully examined it, running her hand over the various types of flora. Recognizing a few varieties of her namesake, while not recognizing a large variety of the rest, she smiled. She lightly pushed against some of the vines and felt as they gave way, allowing her arm to slide through easily, revealing a soft light that couldn't break through the vines at first.

She realized that she'd found an way through the column and slowly eased her way between the vines, careful not to harm any of the plants. She looked back to make sure that the vines were still in check before turning to find something she didn't expect.

There was the Doctor, with his eyes closed, looking almost sadly peaceful. Gone was the constant energy that was painted into his features. Gone was the manic expression that tinted his eyes. Instead, he looked world-weary. Soft lines were etched into his face. The smile she'd seen on so many others while sleeping wasn't on his face. His face was blank, expressionless.

Was that what the war had done to him? Couldn't he find any sort of relief, even in sleep? Not an ounce of happiness.

The blonde slowly walked over to him and knelt down beside the bench he was on. One arm was hanging off rather carelessly, his hand resting on the ground. She reached out and lightly placed her own in his, almost jumping at the way his fingers curled around her hand. She wondered if he was thinking of someone, or if it was just instinct.

Not that it mattered. All that Rose knew now, was that she couldn't leave him. He needed a hand to hold, even if he didn't know it.

END


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